Sliding
by SomniculusFaber
Summary: Premovie ConnorxMurphy fic featuring angst, notsobrotherly love and snow. Adult themes including swearing and twincest. If these things bother you, DON'T READ. Otherwise, enjoy and leave some love!
1. Prologue

It's been the same every year for as long as he can remember. The first snow was always the best for sliding. The ground wasn't ever cold enough, so the snow would be dangerously slick. They would lug their tubes back afterwards, laughing and shaken to the bones from wet cold.

Their Ma would fuss. "Reckless ingrates, both of ya. Catch yer death o'cold out there, leavin' yer long sufferin' Ma all alone- and this close ta Christmas too."

It was the time spent afterward under a blanket in front of the wood stove Murphy cherished most. They would burn their lips on hot tea and spill on each other, cursing and giggling, not able to be still for shivering. Ma would shoo them out of the kitchen and into bed, and they always helped themselves to a handful of biscuits each ("Which I was savin' fer company tomorrow, ya pissants!") before tearing up the stairs in a blur of laughter and bedding.

They would build a stronghold of blankets around Murphy's bed.

"Why do we always hafta mess my bed?"

"'Cause, yours is closer t'tha heater, dumbshite."

They would huddle close, still a bit cold, munching away on stolen booty. They would wake in the morning warm, tangled together and covered in crumbs.


	2. Chapter 1

"Connor?! Ya alright?"

Murphy flew down the hill toward his brother, who looked like a heap of rags in the snow. The heap started to struggle to its feet.

"Aye, I would be then, wouldn't I, if ye hadn't shoved me so hard, ya twat."

They were fifteen this year, and the first snow had come later than usual. Murphy had a struggle of it but finally managed to drag his brother to their favorite spot. He heard Connor grumble something to the effect of "little kid shite", but he could see his brother smiling as he laced his boots.

"Ah now, ya said ya wanted to fly down tha hill, it's not my fault yer dumbass can't steer for shite."

He helped Connor to his feet, taking in good humor his punches and cursing.

"C'mon Connor, buck up there. Ya look right cold, no sense in wastin' tha energy tryin' ta fight. Ya might freeze your nuts off!"

Connor favored his brother's ribbing with the better part of a snowball to the face, followed by a swift tackle to the snow. They rolled around like puppies, making nearly as much of a ruckus.

"Oy, you're no lightweight, get tha fuck offa me!"

Connor grinned like a madman and shoved snow violently into Murphy's face. Murphy rolled over laughing, grabbing both his and Connor's tube and made his way up the hill.

"Murph, let's go back now, eh? It's fucken freezing out."

Connor grimaced, brushing snow out from underneath his scarf. Murphy grinned back at him from further up the hill.

"First one home gets all the hot water!"

He tore off like a shot, tubes and all.

"Ya fucken CHEATER!"

xXxXxXx

They raced up the steps, vying for first entry into the warm house and slipped dangerously on the stoop. Murphy squeaked in first, giving a triumphant crow as he bounded up the stairs to the bathroom.

"Your dirty ass ha'better save me some fucken hot water!!"

Connor grumbled to himself and stripped his wet overclothes off, wandering around the kitchen in search of food. He found a note instead, in Ma's scrawly handwriting:

_You boys can heat up the soup in the icebox for dinner, there's a loaf of bread over the stove. I'll be at Aunt Mary's tonight…KEEP OUT OF TROUBLE. –Ma_

Connor grinned. He and Murph had the house to themselves. He went to the fridge and brought out the soup and proceeded to do as his mother bid. Murphy came down minutes later in his pajamas, hair still dripping. Connor looked at him agape.

"Christ Murph, that was fast. Here, you finish dinner, I'm goin' up to thaw out."

Murphy grinned and stirred the soup. Connor clapped his brother on the back and with a flourish handed Murphy Ma's note. While he read, something akin to wicked glee began to show in his eyes and he grinned at his brother. They had the house to themselves.

Connor came down a little later in sweats and drippy hair to find a table laid out with food. Murphy was slurping his soup.

"Well, c'mon, I slaved all night over tha hot stove, and ya just stand there?"

Connor smacked his brother playfully upside the head, causing him to choke slightly on his soup.

"Couldn't ya wait fer me then? Greedy bastard…"

He gave a moan of appreciation for the hot hearty liquid warming his insides. "This is perfect."

Murphy was giving Connor a sly sidelong glance, and patiently waited for him to register the fact. When finally Connor looked up, he smirked at his brother.

"What didja do, Murph?"

Murphy grinned crazily.

"I spiked the tea."

Connor gasped.

"No fucken way."

Murphy just smirked wisely.

"Take a sip then."

Connor, never one to back down on a dare, took a quick swig of the tea and promptly sputtered and choked down the burning liquid. Eyes watery, he looked at Murph, who was laughing at him.

"Christ Murph, how much didja pour in there?"

"Three shots. I figured it should get us good and drunk. After all, no Ma." He leaned forward and clanked his mug to his brothers, smiling.

"Bottoms up!"

xXxXxXx

Their drunkenness was easily measured by the clumsy construction of their age-old fort. Inside they lounged, read comics, ate bread with butter and drank more tea. They giggled like idiots, rolling sloppily around on the bed and nudging each other haphazardly.

"Connor, d'ya think the Incredible Hulk's Irish?"

"What'r ya on about, ya daft monkey?"

Murph looked at his brother with a false pout.

"Well, he turns green, right?"

Connor snorted.

"Yeah, 'cause o'tha _radioactivity,_ ya idjit."

"Alright then, no need ta get high'n mighty."

Murph closed his eyes in contentment as he bit into a buttered piece of bread, loving it like it was chocolate cake.

Connor blinked stupidly at him a moment before reacting.

"Hey! Tha's the last piece!"

Murph raised an eyebrow and spoke with a mouthful of crumbs.

"Yeah so?"

Connor frowned.

"Tha was my piece, ya greedy bastard!"

Murphy smiled cheekily.

"Well, you're too slow, aintcha?"

Murphy didn't have the chance to take another bite before Connor was on him, tearing the buttery bread out of his brother's hand.

"Ah, yer ruinin' it!" Murphy wailed, and elbowed Connor in the ribs, shoving.

"OW! Fucker!"

They were a flurry of elbows and knees, heat and cursing. A punch here, a jab there and all the time the heat became more unbearable. Finally Connor managed to straddle his struggling brother, pinning his arms over his head.

He smirked and was about to say something snarky until Murphy, in a desperate attempt to free himself, bucked his hips up.

A searing jolt of heat spiked in Murphy's lower belly, and a moan escaped his lips. He looked up in terrified wonder at his twin, whose eyes were like shining dark pools, whose mouth was open and panting hard. Connor lowered his face closer to his brothers and Murphy thought he was drowning in those shining dark pools.

"Do that again."

Murphy's breath hitched and he begged in warning.

"Connor…"

But Connor heard him. _I'm scared. Don't tease. _

He ground his hips down hard. They moaned into each other's mouths, eyes going wide in shock and awe. Murphy reached up and roughly devoured his brother's mouth, hands tangling in his soft hair, tongues sneaking past lips for a mingled taste of slick warmth and spirits.

They pressed flush against one another, the heat between them spiking and melding them together. Connor's hands were everywhere, under his shirt and searing his already feverish skin. Fingers grazed his chest, his nipples and he nearly tossed Connor off the bed for the shuddering pleasure that rocked him. They broke only to breathe.

Connor tugged hard at Murphy's shirt, ripping it unmercifully.

"Off," he panted. "Skin, please need ta feel ya…"

Murphy could only comply and beg that Connor do the same.

Murphy thought he was going insane. Connor's skin burned him, but he clung tighter. Their pants were off in a blur of heat and need. They rubbed frantically, hands roving over sweat-slicked skin as they ground against each other desperately. Connor moaned into Murphy's mouth, drinking deep of him, not getting enough. Their motion reached a fever-pitch, and Murphy tore his mouth from Connor's, struggling for air.

"Oh God…Con…"

Connor bit down on his brother's neck, whimpering.

There was a white hot pinpoint of clarity centered in their slick hard cocks both of which Murphy was sure were melting together and it was Connor's whimpering that sent him flying right over in the edge into oblivion. He felt Connor shudder and follow him, spurting hot fluid between them.

They fell in a panting sweaty heap, completely spent, alcohol nudging them into a dreamy state. They rolled clumsily onto their sides and sleep claimed their shaken, heated bodies. They lay that way all night, sated and glued together.


	3. Chapter 2

The first thing Murphy noticed was the cold. He cracked his eyes and squinted at the early morning light. He tried to roll over but his head protested furiously.

"Fuck."

And then it hit him. He flushed instantly as pieces of memory came back in choppy images of motion, pleasure and heat. He and Connor had gotten drunk and…

He couldn't even think it. He looked around feebly for his brother, and he heard the shower running.

Murphy waited in trepidation for Connor to emerge from the shower. He was lost in what they had done and the fact that he didn't know what Connor was thinking made his stomach clench. He lay back and closed his eyes. _I kissed him. My brother. _

He heard the door open and looked up at Connor, who had dressed in the bathroom. Their eyes locked and Connor looked frozen to the spot. Murphy couldn't think of anything to say but he knew he had to say something or Connor might dash.

"Mornin'."

Connor relaxed a little and walked over to Murphy's bed, and sat down among the fort ruins. He grimaced.

"Ah, mornin' yourself."

Murphy smirked a bit at his brother's grumpiness.

"Yer head hurt?"

Connor nodded weakly.

"Aye, feels like a drum corps' competin' in there."

Murphy nodded.

"Myself as well."

The silence stretched to an unbearable point and Murphy noticed that Connor was avoiding his touch.

"Listen Murph, about last night…"

Murphy's ears flamed red, but he stayed silent, holding his breath and let his brother continue.

Connor looked him right in the eyes and Murphy almost gasped. Guilt. Anguish. Confusion.

_You are looking in a mirror._

"Murph, we can't do that again. We need ta forget about it."

Murphy let out the breath he'd been holding in a whoosh. He hadn't known what Connor would say, but somehow he hadn't pictured it this way. He felt something akin to a knife stab in his chest. When he looked back up at Connor he saw the shining dark pools. They pleaded desperately with him. So he nodded.

"Aye. You're right. It was fucken stupid."

Connor sighed gratefully and hugged Murphy. Then he slapped his back.

"Now c'mon, if tha kitchens not clean before Ma gets back, she'll tan our hides."

"I'll be down in a minute, gotta clean up."

Murphy waited till he heard Connor bound down the stairs before he rolled over into his pillow and cried.


	4. Chapter 3

The hurt was sharp in the beginning, having to pretend. There was a barbed fence between him and his brother now. It made him sting and bleed and cry, where before there was only an open green field, sunshine and his twin.

Their Ma always eyed them now, it seemed. She asked them at least once a day what was wrong with one or the other, depending on who she was talking to. They were cagey and tired more often. But neither would say a word so after awhile she stopped asking and assumed it was just growing pains. Everyone gets them after all, and they were twins…why shouldn't they suffer them together?

They didn't share the bathroom anymore. If Connor was changing Murphy would hide behind a book. If Murphy wandered in with only a towel just out of the shower, Connor, blushing, would remember something he left downstairs.

There were no more hugs, no sharing a bed. Murphy remembered the night when the pain almost broke him. He had the most horrible nightmare, Connor had fallen ill and for some reason Murphy knew it was his fault. There was nothing to be done and next thing he knew he was standing over Connor's grave.

He woke with a start, tears streaking his face and the echo of his strangled cry in his ears. He looked over to his brother's bed to see that he was alive, that it had only been a dream. There was once a time when Connor would crawl into his bed and hold him when he woke cold and frightened. Now Connor laid there wide awake in his own bed. He stared in silent pain at Murphy, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

_I'm sorry. _

He rolled over to face the opposite wall, simply not able to look at Murphy any longer. Murphy felt a cold fog of sorrow slowly numb him from the inside out. He let it lull him back to sleep.

xXxXxXx

It got easier to pretend after that. Every week that passed dissipated some of the cold that clamped Murphy's chest. During the day they bantered and joked, walked side by side to school and church.

They both chatted up the girls, caused good-natured mayhem on the playing fields and got good test marks despite horrible homework grades. They still knelt side by side with their rosaries on Sunday. It felt almost normal again. During the day, Murphy could even admit that he felt happy.

It was the night he hated. Night brought only torture. Murphy came to dread going to sleep. He noticed that the easier the pretending got during the day, the more his dreams tormented him at night. He would wake in a shivering sweat, hard and desperate with Connor's name on his lips.

Connor burned him still, and even though it was his own hand on his cock, for a brief shining moment in his thoughts Connor burned away the cold that clawed him. DreamConnor always made him come hard in a blinding fury of heat. But he had not the substance to fight the cold that always came afterward, when Murphy would realize that he was actually alone.


	5. Chapter 4

"Not like that, ya idjit."

Connor laughed when his brother turned green. Murphy gagged on the bitter smoke, coughing it out in puffs. His eyes watered. Why the hell did Connor like these so much anyhow? He got his answer when he felt his head float away from his shoulders.

"Fuck…"

Connor had dragged him out to the park, saying he had a surprise. It made his stomach turn to knots, the way Connor had said it. Finding out he had just wanted to smoke was a bit of an anti-climax.

He took another drag, and didn't cough so much this time. He turned to look at Connor, grinning madly.

"This is fucken cool. Where'd ya get 'em?"

Connor took a long drag and leaned his head back, closing his eyes as he exhaled languorously through his mouth. Murphy became fascinated by a piece of trash at his feet, cheeks reddening. He knew immediately he was going to be addicted.

"Filched 'em from Uncle Sibeal's jacket last night."

Both Connor and Murphy laughed, remembering the way Ma and Aunt Mary had to steer the man's wobbly arse home after dinner last night. He grinned at Connor and took another drag.

"Even if by some chance tha man realizes they're gone, he'll just think he smoked 'em all."

He exhaled slowly, like Connor.

"Fucken brilliant, these are."

They both stomped out their butts in unison and turned to walk back home. They fell in step as was their nature, flipping their coat collars against the cold. They loped lazily down the street, completely content in the present activity.

They didn't speak, but it was a mercifully easy silence, a welcome change to the many silences they'd had over the past several months. Murphy smiled and listened to his brother's footsteps match his own. He started humming a tune and it was Connor's turn to smile.

When they reached the house, they made straight for the kitchen. Ma wasn't home and sneaking some food before dinner was easy. Murphy toasted the bread, Connor boiled the water for tea. Murphy buttered, Connor jammed. They ate in companionable silence, the only sounds being the cat outside and Connor's munching.

Murphy teetered in his chair absently, eyes wandering out the window. He nearly fell ass over teakettle when Connor actually spoke.

"Ya know tha new girl in class?"

Murphy looked blankly at his brother for a moment before responding.

"Tha red-head, Kaitlin?"

Connor nodded.

"Aye, that's the one."

"What about her?"

"I asked her out."

They had talked to girls a lot, both of them; but mostly as friends, just for a bit of a flirt and not much more. Connor had never indicated any desire to date, and the sudden visual of what Connor might do with a red-headed girlfriend put him in a momentary state of shock. Murphy hadn't realized his jaw was hanging until he noticed Connor looking fidgety.

"Christ Murph, you'll let flies in. Didja hear what I said?"

Murphy flushed slightly, frowned and bit back irritably.

"Of course I heard ya, m'not deaf."

Connor gave an exasperated sigh.

"Well? Whaddya think?"

Now Murphy was just confused. Why did Connor care what he thought? It's not like Murphy had expressed any interest in her. He didn't even like her.

"Are ya askin fer my blessin'?"

Connor scowled.

"No, m'not. I'm askin' about Kaitlin. Whaddya think of her?"

Murphy pulled a face.

"I dunno, she seems a stuck up tart to me. Always with a gaggle o'girls 'round her. She is rather pretty, though. Why'd ya pick her?"

Connor wanted to say 'because she has your eyes'. He just grinned wolfishly instead.

"Everyone knows red-heads are fiery and bold. Maybe I'll get lucky."

Murphy sniggered and shook his head.

"Nah, ya won't," he said matter-of-factly.

Connor raised an eyebrow, smirking.

"Oh no?"

"Uh-uh."

Murphy grinned.

"And why not?"

"'Cause after a week, she'll realize she picked wrong an she'll throw ya over fer me instead."

Murphy laughed loud and scampered out of the kitchen, dodging bread crusts and curses.

xXxXxXx

In the beginning, Connor dating Kaitlin was a welcome bit of relief for Murphy. He and Connor normally spent every waking moment together. It had started to grate on Murphy's sanity and resolve.

When Connor was gone he could actually concentrate on his homework. No Connor there across the room spread out on his bed… his shirt all pushed up from shifting around, brow furrowed in concentration on his book… being ignorantly gorgeous and a torment to him.

Murphy sometimes fancied Connor still felt the same way, and was rewarded every now and then by catching a longing glance and subsequent blush upon his brothers cheeks. All he could do in those instances, though, was bite his cheek and save the beautiful moment for his tortured dreams.

Murphy began to look forward to the hour or two a week Connor would spend with Kaitlin. He never really took their dating too seriously and assumed it would end sooner rather than later. He'd taken to walking around their neighborhood during that time, drawing what he saw. Murphy didn't think much of his work, but he supposed it was an outlet. It was something that gave him a bit of a thrill, a secret pleasure hidden from his twin.

The drawing became such a distraction that Murphy hadn't realized the number of drawings had started to grow exponentially every week. An hour or two turned into five or six, which turned into nearly every day. Pretty soon Murphy hardly saw Connor at all except at school and before bed.

He began to notice other things as well.

Connor came home one night with a hickey on his neck and a smug look on his face as he washed for bed. Murphy's ire was such that he burned to physically remove that look from his brother's face. His anger frightened him. Connor was only doing what any other red-blooded teenage male was, why did it make a difference? A tiny voice inside answered him coldly.

_He's forgotten about you._

A wave of nausea so severe had completely overtaken him at the thought. He ran past his bewildered twin, and sank pitifully to his knees on the floor as the contents of his stomach forced itself up. Connor was at his back in an instant, his voice frantic. Murphy couldn't hear what he was saying over the roar of pain in his ears, over the echoes of his retching. He felt Connor's touch like a burn on his back and he shivered in agony.

Satisfied he was done vomiting, Murphy rose quickly and sharply. He flushed the toilet, washed his face and brushed his teeth. Connor's voice was like a distant whine, the pain hadn't stopped yelling in his ears.

When he was done he looked at Connor through the mirror in front of him. His face was twisted in beautiful concern, but Murphy's eyes slid to the hickey on his neck. Connor gasped sharply and covered it with his hand, but it was too late. He knew it had been seen.

Murphy forced a rueful smile and raised an eyebrow.

"Had fun didja?"

He kept his tone light, praying fervently on the inside that his brother would take the quip at face value. Murphy watched Connor consider for a moment, then roll his eyes and drop his hand.

"Aye, that I did."

"Ya better wear a turtle neck tamorrow, Ma'll have yer head on a spit."

Connor snorted, and then cast a pointed look at his brother.

"Are ya alright, Murph?"

Murphy looked convincingly confused for a moment before answering.

"Oh! Aye. Uncle Sibeal and his fucken shepherd's pie. I haven't the foggiest where he got the idea ta be a culinary master. I wouldn't ha' fed it ta tha cats."

Connor laughed and clapped his brothers back in sympathy.

"Well, then. Glad I missed it."

They both slid into their respective beds, casting each other wary smiles before they turned the lights off. Murphy, exhausted from the retching fell straight to sleep.

Connor lay awake for hours. He'd allowed his brother's joking to placate him, but Murphy's eyes never lie and they hadn't been laughing.


	6. Chapter 5

Connor, to Murphy's shock, kept dating Kaitlin through the next couple of months. If he saw his brother, it was usually with the red-head at his side, beaming happily or giggling, blushing. Connor would spot him, call him over and Murphy had to steel himself and plaster a smile. Connor's arm thrown around his neck was agonizing bliss.

He could never form more than two words when Kaitlin was around. Murphy supposed that's why Kaitlin always eyed him a bit funny but he couldn't care less what the tart thought of him. Connor would rib him, calling him shy. Playing along he looked down at his feet, mumbling.

Murphy started talking less and less at school, throwing himself into his studies and he made a point of not being home afterwards. His Ma might not be educated, but she was sharp and she would pry, knowing there was something wrong. Murphy couldn't handle someone else's prying.

It got colder and colder outside, making it difficult for Murphy to wander and draw. He started perusing the local library's art section. Murphy took great solace there, and he knew no one would go looking for him at the library. He would drown in the huge colorful pages…he decided he liked impressionism the best. It was bright, beautiful and undefined. It was the way he and Connor used to be.

xXxXxXx

Murphy whistled idly as he made his way home. He could never be forlorn around Christmas time, the decorations and pretty lights twinkled merrily and they rubbed off on him.

Murphy tromped up the stairs, grunting at the heaviness of his books. He promptly dropped them all when he saw Connor sitting on his bed.

"Connor! AH! Fuck!"

Murphy cursed as one of his heavier books landed on his foot. He heard Connor laugh and stride over to help.

"Easy there Murph, no broken toes…"

When they managed to dump all the books on his desk, Murphy turned to look at his brother.

"Where's Kaitlin?"

Connor shrugged.

"Ah, Christmas shopping with her mum. Couldn't stand ta be dragged along, don't know if I'll hear tha end of it…but I missed ya."

Murphy smiled brightly.

"Aye well, it's good ta see ya, thought I was hallucinatin' fer-"

He stopped short when he noticed his sketchbook lying open on Connor's bed. Murphy's heart clenched painfully.

"What is THAT doin' there?!"

Connor had the decency to look horribly embarrassed.

"Well, I saw it lyin' around and-"

Murphy was reeling.

"No, ya DIDN'T see it lyin' around. I NEVER leave it lyin' around."

Connor put his hands up in a conciliatory gesture, face red and openly pleading for Murphy to calm down.

"Murph, relax, alright? I saw tha corner sticken outta tha edge o' your desk drawer…I was wrong ta snoop, m'really sorry."

Murphy debated hitting Connor, but thought better of it. He hadn't seen his brother in what felt like an age. If he decked Connor he might not see him again for two. He satisfied himself with grabbing the sketchbook and shoving it angrily back in its place.

"Aye, well, ya should be."

Connor sank back to his bed and when Murphy turned around his brother was fixing him with a gaze that tore the breath from his lungs. He made himself busy shuffling school papers.

"Murph."

Murphy took a deep breath and forced himself to look at his brother. Connor had a small smile on his face, and he shook his head in amazement.

"Murphy, I had no idea…those drawings… you are so fucken talented."

Murphy favored his brother a grateful if grudging smile.

"Christ, tha drawing of our sliding hill…it's so fucken GOOD Murph, I recognized it straight away. How long have ya been drawin'?"

He went beet red. That was his favorite drawing. Murphy didn't know how Connor managed to hone right in on him like that. He half suspected his brother did it without meaning to, but that didn't make it any easier on him.

"Well, since around when you an Katie started running tagether. I was wanderin' around one day, I had extra paper and a pencil in me bag. Tha mood just struck. I really don't know why I did it."

Connor nodded, looking down at his lap and debating whether or not Murphy would fly off the handle if he asked him another question.

"Ma says yer gone a lot. Where d'ya go?"

Murphy bristled visibly.

"Checkin' up on me are ya? Because I don't ask where you an Katie get off ta."

Connor frowned.

"Well, I assumed ya wouldn't want ta know."

Murphy shot a heated look of daggers at his brother.

"Likewise."

Connors head sank into his hands, defeated. Shaking his head he stretched out on his bed, not looking at Murphy.

"Is there any way I can just walk back in here again, an we could start tha conversation over?"

Connor's pained whisper made Murphy cringe. He told himself he wasn't going to fight with his brother. He was almost positive Connor would rather have been decked than talked to like that, and the thought made him a little ill.

"Fuck."

He moved to sit beside Connor on the bed. He laid a hand on his brothers back and felt his heart bleed when Connor gasped at the touch.

"Connor, I'm sorry."

His brother shuddered.

"Myself as well."

They stayed that way until Murphy could bear the burning in his hand no longer. He got up and flopped onto his bed, suddenly exhausted.

"Tha library."

Connor lifted his head onto his arms and looked quizzically at his brother.

"Wha?"

Murphy rolled onto his side, propping himself up with one arm.

"Ya asked where I get off ta when m'not home."

Connor mimicked his brothers action, quizzical look still on his face.

"Whaddya go there fer?"

Murphy blushed, fiddling with his blanket. Connor closed his eyes wanting to burn the way his brother looked right then into his brain.

"Well, I've gotten ta really like drawin'. I figured I should look at artwork, pictures an paintins and tha like… one o' my teacher's said I should… if I wanted ta improve, ya know?"

Connor smiled.

"Well Murph, I think ya've already got the one-up on just about everyone in tha county."

Murphy smiled brightly at his brother's praise, he really couldn't help it. No one else's opinion mattered to him. Connor sat up abruptly, a thought occurring.

"Hey, I think I have just tha thing…"

Murphy just watched in curiosity as his brother rifled through his own desk, cursing. Connor gave a little shout of delight when he found what he was looking for.

"Here ya go."

He handed Murphy a large piece of corkboard and a box of tacks with a flourish and a shy grin. Murphy just looked up at his brother confused. Connor shuffled his feet a bit.

"Ah, Aunt Mary gave it ta me last year when she was cleanin' out her closets. I never had tha use fer it. You should hang yer sketches up. They're really good."

Murphy swallowed the lump of gratitude growing in his throat. It was a fucken corkboard, and it was the most thoughtful thing Connor had ever given him. He smiled brilliantly.

"Thanks Connor. I'll hang it up tanight."

Connor grinned and ruffled Murphy's hair.

"M'glad ya like it."

They both jumped in unison at the loud grating shout that boomed upstairs from the kitchen.

"I'll not be waitin' another minute fer you ungrateful heathens ta get down here for dinner!!"

Murphy pulled a serious face and looked over his brother's shoulder.

"Connor, wha's tha?"

He fell for it, as he always did. Connor cursed Murphy's wickedness but he was smiling as he flew down the stairs after his laughing brother.


	7. Chapter 6

It had started earlier that day, and from what he'd heard on the radio, it was likely to continue late into the night. Murphy tapped his pencil absently on his open book, unfinished homework abandoned by his attention for the ethereal snowfall outside. Murphy looked down at his assignment, due the next day. He grinned.

_Fuck it_.

Murphy slammed his books shut, shoved them haphazardly into his bag and took off like a shot past the bewildered librarian and out the main door. He wanted to roll in the snow as soon as he felt it crunch beneath his feet, but logic caught up, reminding him about things like pneumonia and frostbite. He contented himself with catching flakes on his tongue, humming Jingle Bells and jogging home.

Murphy knew his Ma was at Aunt Mary's helping decorate for her Christmas party and would probably spend the night. He and Connor would be on their own for dinner, but he wasn't too hungry yet. He could only think of the snow outside. Murphy passed their hill on the way home, it looked perfect for sliding.

Murphy took the stairs two at a time and burst into the bedroom. He wasted no time and rifled through his dresser for the essentials- long johns, socks, hat, gloves, scarf. He was just lacing up his boots when Connor came in.

"Hey Connor!"

Murphy leapt up and grabbed his brother in a fierce hug.

"AH! Christ, Murph, can't breathe!"

Murphy let his brother go and hopped about the room with glee, not noticing the uncomfortable look on Connor's face.

"Ah, Connor! Didja get a chance ta go outside yet? Tha hill is perfect, we should go before those O'Reilly brats muss up tha snow!"

Connor had started to undress and change, but it wasn't into long johns.

"Murphy, I can't go."

Murphy halted abruptly and looked at his brother in confusion.

"Whaddya mean, ya can't? Why tha hell are ya wearin' a tie?"

Connor sighed, running a hand through his hair nervously.

"Katie's havin' a party at her house, I promised ta be there. You're invited too, if ya want ta go and I promise we'll go slidin' tamorrow."

Murphy sank to his bed, legs refusing to hold him up. He thought he was going to be sick. He couldn't look at Connor.

"Connor, why can't ya tell Katie ya've got the flu or somethin'? She'd believe ya, and wouldn't hold it against ya. Come slidin' with me."

Connor shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Murph, I PROMISED her."

Murphy lost it and leapt wildly to his feet, invading Connor's space.

"What about ME?! I NEVER fucken see ya!! Is it too much ta fucken ask?!"

Connor's face contorted in hurt and anger.

"FUCK you Murphy!! We're not little fucken kids anymore, why cantcha fucken ACT like it?! I'm goin' ta tha party, whether you come with me or not!"

The anger sung through Murphy like a searing lance and before he knew it he was on Connor, his fist connecting soundly with his brother's jaw.

They were a tornado of violent rage, fists and cursing. The anger turned them animal against one another and they both vied desperately for triumph. Finally Connor won out, slamming his brother hard against the wall. The both of them had bloody mouths, Connor a purpling jaw and Murphy a bleeding nose. They breathed heavily against one another and Connor suddenly felt violently ill.

He let go of Murphy who promptly sank to the floor in a battered heap. Connor cleaned his face and changed his shirt. Before he left for the party he threw a wet rag at Murphy. The words were like acid in his mouth.

"Ya better clean yerself up before Ma gets home, wouldn't want ya ta get two beatins in one night."

Murphy's rage returned like a re-opened wound. He leapt up and yelled hoarsely at Connor's retreating form.

"FUCK you!! I hope ya fucken CHOKE on tha egg-nog!"

The door slammed shut in reply.

xXxXxXx

Murphy seethed and trudged angrily through the snow, wiping frozen tears from his eyes as he made his way to their hill. He felt like he was breaking apart inside.

He _knew_ Connor didn't hate him, so it was very difficult for him to see why his brother insisted on acting like such a fucken prick. Sure, they were getting older… but to Murphy, sliding with Connor at the first snow was just as important as putting up the Christmas tree every year. It wasn't really winter if they hadn't done it proper. Why didn't Connor see that?

When he reached the hill Murphy just stared at its pristine beauty. He felt empty and tired, but he had walked all the way there so he jumped on his tube and slid down, a lone dark figure making tracks in the snow.

Over and over he went, sliding down and marching up until Murphy could no longer feel his fingers or toes. Satisfied he had done enough sliding for the both of them Murphy decided to head back home. Halfway back up the hill he noticed someone standing at the top and when he got closer he realized it was Connor.

Murphy had been prepared to say something particularly nasty but instead gasped when he got a good look at his brother. Connor looked like he'd been run over by a truck.

"Jaysus, Connor! What tha fuck happened?"

Connor's shirt was all torn and he had a cut over his eye that bled profusely making him look like something out of a horror movie. He motioned for Murphy to follow him and they started walking. Connor pulled two cigarettes from his pocket and lit them both, handing one to his brother. Murphy knew Connor wouldn't talk till he'd finished his cigarette so they walked in silence having fallen in step.

They had made it nearly to the front porch by the time Murphy had stamped his butt out. They were both freezing cold so they went inside the warmth of their house and straight up to their room. Connor washed his face for the second time that night and flopped down on his bed. Murphy, after removing his wet outerclothes did the same.

"Alright now, out with it."

Murphy stared at his brother intently, and watched Connor wince as he propped himself up on one arm.

"Got in a fight with Katie's older brother."

Murphy snorted humorlessly.

"Two beatins in one night, huh? What, did he catch ya tryin' ta feel up Katie's skirt under tha mistletoe?"

Connor shook his head.

"Nah."

When it became clear Connor wasn't going to add to that Murphy became irritated.

"Well what tha fuck happened then?"

Connor frowned down at his blanket, picking at a thread there.

"He…he said somethin' real awful about ya."

Murphy just looked blankly at Connor. He didn't really like Katie's brother and barely spoke to him.

"What tha fuck did he say?"

Murphy could barely hear when Connor spoke next.

"He called ya a dirty faggot, said one o' his friends caught ya out back o' tha school with another guy."

Murphy's eyebrows nearly rocketed off his face and his jaw fell. He could not even form an intelligent reply to that. Connor suddenly looked horrified.

"Ya didn't, didja?"

That snapped Murphy back to reality. He chucked a pillow straight at Connor's head.

"Of course I fucken didn't! I haven't the fucken foggiest where he would come up with that shite."

A thought occurred suddenly and Murphy groaned.

"Fuck! He's probably told tha whole fucken school!"

Connor smirked wickedly.

"Nah, he said it happened just today and if he knows what's good fer 'im he won't be spreadin' that filth around. Besides, he won't be able ta talk right for at least two days."

Murphy snorted, and looked pointedly at his brother.

"What about Katie?"

Connor grimaced.

"Even if her parents would let me back in her sight I wouldn't talk ta her again. She believed her brother and said ya always were strange."

Murphy frowned.

"I'm sorry Connor. I know ya liked her."

Connor shrugged. Murphy looked at his brother, curious.

"Connor."

"Aye."

"What was it about Katie? I mean, I know she's cute but no offense, I thought ya'd lose interest in a coupla weeks."

Connor sighed heavily, getting up from his bed and changing into sweats. Murphy sat up on his bed and waited patiently for an answer.

Connor sat down next to his brother and Murphy gasped when he reached over and put a hand on his face.

"She reminded me of you."

Connor's hand burned his cheek, and he'd lost the ability to breathe. Connor brought their foreheads together, and there was a tear on the end of his nose.

"I'm so SORRY Murph."

Murphy crushed Connor's lips to his own and they moaned desperately into each others mouths. Murphy kissed Connor like he was starving for it, and he shuddered violently at his brother's touch.

They rolled together there, on the bed they'd shared almost a year ago and Murphy couldn't stop the tears from streaking his down his cheeks. The wet heat of Connor's tongue drove away coherence and he whimpered, completely overcome. When they broke for air Connor fastened his mouth onto Murphy's neck, wanting to taste every beautiful inch of his brother's salty skin. Murphy moaned in ecstasy.

"Fuck, Murph, want ya…"

Murphy tore at his brother's shirt and they broke apart. They shed their clothes in almost ridiculous haste, the need to feel skin temporarily overriding sanity. The fabric gone, Murphy pressed Connor flush against him, moaning as they ground their hips together. He felt his brother's shivers like they were his own. Connor whimpered, pulling Murphy's face into his, mouths colliding in a symphony of slick heat and need.

There was an inferno slowly burning them from the inside and they could not get close enough. Connor pried one of his brother's hands from his back and looked Murphy straight in the eye as he slowly ran his tongue over the palm side, slicking it. Murphy moaned piteously, grinding against his brother hard.

"Oh God…"

Connor guided his brother's hand between their fevered bodies, closing it on his own aching cock and arched hard at the touch.

"FUCK! Murph…so good…please…"

Murphy's eyes widened in wonder, and he immediately paid the same attention to Connor, moaning in lewd pleasure at the salty taste of his brother's fingers. When Connor's hand wrapped around his weeping cock Murphy was sure he was about to lose consciousness. Only the beauty of his brother's pleasure kept him on this side of reality and he watched in amazement the rapture that played out on Connor's face.

"God, Con…love ya…"

Connor used his free hand to crush their mouths together. Slick hands slid over swollen cocks, wet tongues communed in searing, desperate hunger and their moans of pleasure rose and fell like tides on each other's ears.

"Fuck…Connor…m'gonna…"

Connor bit down hard on his brother's shoulder while Murphy buried his face into Connor's neck. Their movement grew to a frenzied pace and they both let out muffled wails, spurting into each other's hands.

They lay like that, foreheads pressed together while the shaking subsided, sharing panting breaths. Connor pulled back to study Murphy's face. He smiled and wiped tears from his brother's flushed face and they both let out shaky laughs.

"That was…"

"Aye."

The heat grew overbearing and they rolled onto their backs, laying side by side. Murphy turned his head to look at Connor, favoring him with smirk before licking his hand clean. Connor's eyes fell to half mast and he moaned.

"Christ, Murph, you're a dirty motherfucker."

Murphy grinned and pulled Connor's fingers to his lips.

"Lord's fucken name."

Connor's eyes fluttered shut as his brother's mouth cleaned his fingers.

"Mother Mary, full of Grace…"

With what little energy still remained, Connor reached to the floor for his t-shirt and wiped him and Murphy clean. His stomach gave a loud protest of hunger.

"Fuck…'m hungry…"

Murphy laughed, elbowing his brother.

"Aye, myself as well, but if ya think I'm cookin' fer ya, yer right outta yer skull. Luckily Ma left us some sandwiches."

"Hey Murph, Ma's gone fer tha night, is she not?"

"Aye."

Connor gave his brother a sly smile.

"Let's spike tha tea."

The End. Merry Christmas!


End file.
